


you can lay your hands on me

by onlythingbetterthanhairspray



Category: Teenage Bounty Hunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, There was only one bed!, a lil bit of angst but a whole lot of fluff, aka one of my favorite tropes of all time, did someone say........... overnight debate tournament?, stepril - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:02:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26452291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlythingbetterthanhairspray/pseuds/onlythingbetterthanhairspray
Summary: Things are already tense as April swipes into their shared room at the end of the hall, but it gets a whole lot worse when they actually enter. Ellen had promised the team double queen bed rooms; Sterling and April stand in silence and stare at the single king bed in front of them. Sterling’s heart is doing this thing where it climbs into her throat and beats against her windpipe, and she can’t swallow down any air at the thought of sleeping in such close proximity to April....aka, an overnight debate tournament + Sterling Wesley, Queen of Yearning + possibly my favorite fanfic trope
Relationships: April Stevens/Sterling Wesley
Comments: 51
Kudos: 846





	you can lay your hands on me

**Author's Note:**

> figured since I've been stalking the Teenage Bounty Hunters tag that I should actually just write my own fic, so here we go. everything through 1x6 is canon, and then the divergence happens over the 1x7 long weekend— instead of working on the biblical structures project, the girls attend a second debate tournament! (overnight!!) ellen is the only adult chaperone, primarily bc I like writing her but also bc I forgot the name of the male debate teacher
> 
> title from "religion (u can lay your hands on me)" by shura bc that's Absolutely A Stepril Song

In a way, it’s Ellen’s fault that they have back-to-back debate tournaments on adjacent weekends. Something about misreading the schedules on the online registration, Sterling hears. And because it’s a long weekend, they end up enrolled to compete in a two-day tournament about an hour away from their school— also Ellen’s doing. Sterling loves the woman, but she had planned to go hunting with her dad and Blair over the long weekend, which Blair had begged her (to no avail) not to miss.

Still, she’s excited to spend an overnight with the team, especially in the expensive hotel at which Willingham had insisted on booking rooms to house the students. Sterling has always loved hotels; it feels like stepping into someone else’s life for a night.

And yeah, okay, Sterling is kind of giddy at the idea of being around April all weekend—  _ especially _ April in debate mode. The events of the previous week’s tournament have tormented Sterling’s every waking— and sleeping as well, if she’s being perfectly honest— moment. She tries not to think about it: grabbing her own arm in the janitor’s closet; seeing April’s eyes, and hair, and lips; losing control over her own body. Really, it’s all she thinks about. It’s rather inconvenient, and intoxicatingly thrilling.

Thus far, Sterling has been nothing but let down. They’ve been on the bus for 45 minutes, and April still won’t make eye contact with her. She knows April is still mad about the way she seemingly threw the final debate the previous weekend, so Sterling is relegated to staring from across the aisle at the shorter girl, firmly engrossed in something on her phone.

Ellen stands up to make an announcement and sways a little as the bus switches lanes. “Oh my, it feels like we’re on a rollercoaster, doesn’t it?” she quips to the collection of students, silent in their seats. Without missing a beat, Ellen claps her hands together excitedly. “Who’s ready to get their debate on?”

A couple of half-hearted cheers arise from the few occupied seats of the bus. Sterling smiles and tries to meet April’s eye at just the right second, as the shorter girl glances up from her phone. What she wouldn’t give to be able to use her twin telepathy on April! All she wants to do is talk, but the way April’s eyes harden into her gaze suggests that that is still off the table.

Ellen runs through the schedule for the weekend as the smile slips quietly off of Sterling’s face. She turns her attention to the cars passing by on the highway, leaning her head against the window, and focuses on the tinny Christian rock song playing quietly through the bus radio. She stays kind of zoned out like that for most of the rest of the bus ride, until her ears perk up at Ellen’s mention of room assignments. “We have three rooms for the six of you, plus one for me,” Ellen mentions with an unnecessarily elaborate wave of her hands. The bus shifts into the exit lane, and Ellen stumbles forward, grasping at the tops of the seats to stop from going completely horizontal.

“We’ll split the boys into two rooms— Daniel and Zachary, you’ll room together, and then Isaiah and Peter, you’ll be in the second— which means April and Sterling, you’ll take the last room.”

The bus screeches to a halt in the hotel parking lot as Sterling attempts to process this turn of events. Honestly, she’s surprised it didn’t occur to her earlier— an overnight tournament, staying at a hotel, on a team on which she and April are the only female members. Still, it’s… a lot to take in. To say the least.

Unwittingly, her mind is flooded with memories from the previous night: lying atop her sheets, hands in her pajama pants, mind fixed on the mental image of April’s smile. She came while imagining April on top of her, biting her neck, covering Sterling’s mouth with her hand.  _ You need to be quiet, Sterling. Do you like that, Sterling? _

“Sterling?”

“Huh?” She shakes her head, skin flush, and realizes everyone else has exited the bus. April is standing in the aisle, head cocked, watching Sterling. There’s something soft about April’s face, and Sterling seems to realize it at the same time that April herself does, because she watches the girl’s expression flicker into something like panic and settle into something like steel.

“Are you alive? Get off the bus.” Sterling watches as April turns on her heel and does just that, not even waiting to see if her orders are being followed.

April is already taking their room keys from Ellen when Sterling reaches the front desk of the hotel lobby. She watches, enraptured, as April turns the cards over between her fingers, clearly irritated with whatever Ellen is telling her in hushed tones. All Sterling can do to stop her own fingers from twitching is tighten them desperately around the strap of her backpack.

Was it always meant to be like this? Sterling can’t stop thinking about it, hasn’t stopped thinking about it since last weekend in the janitor’s closet. Had she been harboring feelings for April for God knows how long, buried deep in a place even Sterling couldn’t see? Or had something clicked in her brain when April grabbed her arm, a chemical reaction bubbling and exploding into something completely and totally new?

Whatever the case, Sterling can’t stop the dopey smile that springs to her face when April barks at her from the elevator. With a thumbs up from Ellen, she shoulders her backpack and steps in.

***

Things are already tense as April swipes into their shared room at the end of the hall, but it gets a whole lot worse when they actually enter. Ellen had promised the team double queen bed rooms; Sterling and April stand in silence and stare at the single king bed in front of them. Sterling’s heart is doing this thing where it climbs into her throat and beats against her windpipe, and she can’t swallow down any air at the thought of sleeping in such close proximity to April.

Then Sterling is actually choking, because yeah, maybe she forgot to breathe picturing April falling asleep beside her. The shorter girl whips around at the sound, eyes wide. Sterling can feel the heat rise to her cheeks as she tries to get her shit together.

A beat, and then: “I’m sure Ellen can get them to fix this. I’ll go ask—”

“No!” Sterling isn’t sure what on God’s good earth sends the single syllable tumbling from her lips, but once it’s out in the air, it hangs there uncomfortably as she rushes to offer a decent explanation for her outburst. “I mean, it would probably be really complicated for Ellen? And the competition starts really early tomorrow morning,” she rambles. “And I mean, I don’t really mind? If you don’t mind. I’m really thin, so really, you won’t even notice me. And hey, we used to share a bed when we…”

The words die on Sterling’s lips as she slips into another memory: her and April, in 4th grade, holding hands under the covers during sleepovers. Her and April, giggling and then pretending to be asleep when her mom came in to check on them. Her and April, sharing all of their hopes and fears into the wee hours of the morning. The way she would wake up, one gangly arm slung over April’s waist, and the smaller girl would bury her nose into their shared pillow and smile in her sleep.

Her and April, standing a mere two feet apart in a room with only one bed. She’s known April too long not to be able to tell when the girl is struggling with something, despite how well April thinks she can hide the emotion passing like clouds across her face. And Sterling can tell before April speaks that she’s made a decision, the way her features settle and the corner of her mouth turns up, unsure but almost happy.

“Okay.”

The actual getting ready for bed happens in silence. Was the room this warm when they first entered? Sterling swears the temperature has risen like ten degrees as April slips into the bathroom to change into her pajamas. Eyeing her own thick pajama set, Sterling makes the decision to switch her heavy pajama top out for a Willingham Academy t-shirt that she threw in her bag at the last minute.

April steps out of the bathroom in a flannel pajama shirt and matching boxers. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, her face scrubbed clean. There’s a strand of hair loose from the rest, drifting down along the side of April’s face, and Sterling has the overwhelming urge to step forward and sweep it behind her ear. Then she’s thinking about running her finger along the back of April’s ear, and the line of her jaw, and—

“Do you need the bathroom?”

Her heart stutters, along with her tongue. “Uh, yeah, I— I’ll just— gotta brush my teeth—”

Sterling grabs her toiletry bag and shuffles towards the bathroom door, turning around to look back at April. Then, all in one breath: “Alsoyouhaveahairlikerighthere.”

April’s lips part as she reaches gingerly towards her own forehead, in the direction Sterling is pointing, eyebrows crinkling in surprise when her fingers make contact with the offending strand. Before she can say anything, Sterling scurries into the bathroom and shuts the door.

When she emerges, April is pulling back the covers and climbing into the right side of the bed. “I’m turning off the lights,” Sterling announces.

Lying in a king-sized bed with April Stevens is hard to describe. On one hand, Sterling is aware of just how vast the space between them is, oceans of white linen that feel like miles. On the other hand, when she slips under the covers, she can feel April’s body heat radiating towards her, and she’s acutely aware of every movement April makes, rustles that echo in the silent night. It is everything and nothing like 4th grade.

“April?”

A beat, and then: “Sterling?”

It’s the least hostile her name has sounded on April’s lips in God knows how long. Something feels like it has been stripped away in the darkness; she can’t see April’s face, but she can tell in just two syllables that it lacks a harshness the rest of the school is used to seeing.

Sterling turns on her side, facing the shorter girl. The sheets rustle; she imagines that April could be doing the same. The time stretches out between them, until Sterling finally murmurs, “...I’m sorry.”

“For what?” April asks, followed by a small yawn. Her voice is a little rough, and no louder than a whisper.

“For 5th grade. For last weekend. For everything.”

Sterling doesn’t expect a response. She doesn’t get one. She hears April’s breathing slow down and imagines the tension leaving her face as she drifts into sleep.

***

Sterling wakes up at 7:30 the next morning to April’s phone alarm. Her senses turn back on, one at a time: the sound of gentle chimes on a loop; the smell of lavender shampoo; the feeling of warm skin against her bare arm and hair tickling her nose; the sight of April, eyes flickering open, mere inches from her face.

A moment of awareness when they finally lock eyes— sometime during the night, they had both drifted towards the center of the king bed. Sterling’s arm tingles as it sits against April’s skin where her pajama shirt has ridden up slightly. Their heads occupy the space between the two pillows, breath intermingled between them. One of April’s legs is caught gently between Sterling’s. Sterling’s hand is… dangerously close to resting on April’s ass.

Cue an onset of panic. April scrambles backwards, managing to tangle the sheets around her legs in the process; Sterling’s immediate concern is yanking her hand back from its rather inappropriate resting place. Her skin feels like it’s on fire, in a way that’s entirely inopportune for such an important morning.

“I’mgonnabrushmyteeth!” Sterling squeaks. She all but slams the door behind her. Looking in the mirror, her cheeks are pink and her hair is sticking out at odd angles. Sterling spends most of her time in the bathroom just breathing in an attempt to calm the way her body has been tingling since the moment she woke up entangled with her arch-nemesis-turned-crush.

April is already in her uniform— an orange Willingham polo and khakis— when Sterling finally emerges. “We have to stop meeting like this,” she tries to joke, lamely, but April won’t meet her eyes.

***

Sterling knows she’s going to be late for the tournament’s opening announcements. She just… needs to settle her nerves, before she debates. Every part of her body is still buzzing, and she can’t form a coherent thought that’s not  _ April April April _ , and so really, isn’t it April’s fault that she’s making out with a public school boy under a stairwell?

It’s just like last weekend, but so incredibly different, too. Her hands cling to the back of— was his name Greg?— Greg’s button-down as she bites down hard on his lower lip, but her eyes are closed and she sees April’s stupid beautiful smirk in her mind and yeah, sue her for using what turns her on to her advantage. She brings one hand up to weave her fingers in Greg’s dirty blonde hair and pulls her mouth away to whisper into his ear: “I want you to push me against the wall.”

Her back hits the concrete and she pictures the way April’s nose flares when she’s angry, the way her eyes get wide and intense, the curling of her fingers into Sterling’s arm. Sterling slips into a fantasy from earlier in the week: April, straddling her on the couch of the Fellowship room. April, nipping at her pulse point. April, breathing hot air on the shell of her ear.  _ You don’t get to come until I tell you to. _

“April, please,” she moans.

Greg’s hands still on her hips. “What was that?”

Sterling’s eyes widen before she grabs Greg by the chin and kisses him, wet and hard. He shuts up.

***

April is waiting for her after her third debate of the day— her third win of the day.

“You were… surprisingly good,” April starts, tone completely devoid of any lingering vitriol. “Although I guess I shouldn’t be as surprised now, after last weekend.”

Sterling grins, just a little bit. “You watched my debate?”

The shorter girl crosses her arms. “I  _ am _ the team captain. It’s my duty to track the progress of my… team.”

Something flits across April’s features as her eyebrows furrow. Before Sterling can overanalyze it, April’s hand reaches up towards her, as if in a trance. Her fingers come to rest on the shoulder of Sterling’s blazer, dancing along the fabric before pulling back just as slowly. “You had some… lint,” she explains, lamely. Sterling searches her face, mesmerized, until April seems to snap out of it.

“Clean up your appearance before your next debate. We need to represent Willingham with pride.” Then she turns on her heels and storms off, leaving Sterling to trace her own fingers along her shoulder in awe.

***

Sterling doesn’t run into April again until they reconvene in the hotel room after a full day of debates. She barely has a moment to herself in the room to text Blair—  _ “How’s the hunting trip? I won all of my debates today! Can’t wait for round two!” _ — before April storms in, obviously angry.

“Can you  _ believe _ that not a single one of the boys went five for five today?”

Sterling cocks her head, her phone forgotten on the bed beside her. “Did you?”

April scoffs, pacing the room. “Of course I did. You?”

“Yep.” She pops the p with her lips, which seems to break the cloud of April’s frustration.

She stops pacing and settles down next to Sterling on the edge of the bed. “Never send a man to do a woman’s work,” April quips, raising an eyebrow. Sterling can’t help but giggle, which triggers a quiet chuckle in April as well, bubbling pleasantly until it’s a full-blown laugh. And then Sterling is laughing too, at the absurdity of it all. It wasn’t even that funny of a statement, but they’re both so exhausted, and they can’t seem to stop. After a minute, the air in the room feels lighter, and April is doing that half-grin that makes Sterling’s stomach flip upside down.

April turns to face Sterling, eyes bright. “Seriously, when and how did you get so good at debate?” She pauses, considering her words. “I don’t want to say you were… useless before, per say, but you have to admit…”

“No, no, I get it.” Sterling shrugs, not quite sure how to respond. Images flash through her mind—  _ tongues wall arm neck supply closet _ — and her cheeks flush lightly before she settles on, “I guess you just inspired me.” And it comes out sounding way more honest than Sterling intends, tender even, but April’s gaze softens almost exponentially.

“Is that… did you… really?” April asks, stumbling, as if this is the first time someone has ever actually told her something so kind and true.  _ Maybe it is _ , Sterling thinks suddenly.

It’s that thought that propels her forward. It’s the very concept that no one has ever been soft to April, the idea that April has spent years thinking Sterling hates her when that couldn’t be further from the truth, that pushes Sterling to grab April’s face between her hands and kiss her.

It takes her a second to realize what she’s done— what she’s still doing. Sterling can’t even allow herself a moment to process the feeling of April’s lips on hers before she tears herself away, eyes wide with terror. Her hands fly to her mouth as she attempts to murmur frantic apologies. “April, oh my God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

Sterling’s hands flail in the air as she’s yanked suddenly by the lapels of her blazer towards April, and when they land on the other girl’s shoulders, April is kissing her fiercely. April’s fingers somehow find their way to Sterling’s jaw and cradle it gently. Another hand is in Sterling’s hair, and her eyes roll back in her head as April’s nails scratch gently along her scalp. Sterling’s skin is warm and she wishes irrationally that April had more hands so she could touch her in every place at once.

“Sterl…” April whispers as she pulls back, the rest of her name dying on her lips. Sterling wants to hear April say her name like that, like she’s the most important thing in the universe, until the day she dies. She wants to kiss April breathless and run her fingers over her skin and make April believe that someone thinks she’s incredible. That  _ Sterling _ thinks she’s incredible.

Sterling breathes out slowly. “I’ve wanted to do that all week,” she murmurs. She can’t stop her eyes from roaming April’s face, drinking in every nick in her skin, the slope of her nose, the curve of her lips. April is staring back at her with that lopsided smile; she looks happier than Sterling has seen her since elementary school.

A memory: her and April, little kids hiding under the covers, foreheads pressed together. Sterling leans forward, mirroring the image in her mind, feeling giddy at the way April’s breath hitches.

“Sterl…” April repeats, and then they’re kissing again.

***

They had said they were going to go to sleep over twenty minutes ago, but Sterling is wide awake. Her skin prickles every place April’s hands had roamed, and she’s still unfairly turned on. She knows the second day of the tournament begins bright and early the next morning, knows she should just turn over and count sheep until she falls asleep, but—

“April?”

A beat, and then: “Sterling?”

She feels like she’s swimming through the linen sheets to find April in the darkness. When she does, she lets her eyes adjust so she can make out the shape of April’s face. “I can’t sleep,” she admits, trailing a hand along the shorter girl’s bare arm.

“We have to get up  _ so _ early, Sterl,” April argues softly, breath warm against Sterling’s face. When Sterling pouts in response, she feels April’s fingers trace along her bottom lip.

Pursing her lips, Sterling kisses the pads of April’s fingers, causing them to stutter and slow in their movement. April hums quietly as Sterling says, “I know, but every part of me is wide awake.” It comes out half-whine and half-rasp, which is only a little embarrassing.

“Me, too,” April admits. To emphasize her point, she shifts forward, bringing her body flush against Sterling’s, and connects their lips. Sterling can’t help but sigh into the kiss, one hand settling on April’s hip. April grabs Sterling’s arm; it’s a gentle enough gesture, but Sterling’s entire body is suddenly on fire at the memory—  _ you screwed me over then, and you screwed me over now _ — and she moans, much louder than intended.

April pulls back from the kiss but keeps her hand in its place, and Sterling is still struggling to see clearly in the dark, but oh God, it should be illegal for April Stevens to look that self-satisfied after kissing her. A moment, where they kind of just stare at each other and breathe heavily, where Sterling licks her lips instinctively and tastes something distinctly April, before she feels April’s leg stretch across her own and then mere seconds later feels the full weight of the shorter girl, straddling her hips.

“Is this okay?”

Sterling swallows, hard and fast. “More than okay,” she whispers, voice hoarse.

April’s lips move along Sterling’s neck like she’s trying to construct a dossier, gathering information on the way Sterling squirms and the spots that make her sigh contentedly. At one point, April’s teeth graze Sterling’s pulse point, right as she moves a leg between Sterling’s, and Sterling actually  _ whimpers _ . April pulls back, just an inch, and murmurs against Sterling’s skin, “Noted.” As if that isn’t the  _ hottest _ thing Sterling has ever heard.

Every part of her body is buzzing, and she can’t form a coherent thought that’s not  _ April April April _ , which is honestly fine by her— Sterling wouldn’t mind thinking about nothing but April for the rest of her life, she decides. She can’t tell how much time passes in the dark, tangled with April in a mess of limbs and lips, until April kind of slumps into her body. “My arms are a little tired,” she explains with a quiet chuckle that echoes around the confines of Sterling’s heart.

She runs her fingers slowly through April’s hair, and she watches as April’s eyes close at the sensation. “You’re sleepy,” she points out, unnecessarily, the statement punctuated by a small yawn. “I guess I am, too.” 

The shorter girl mumbles in assent without opening her eyes. Sterling presses a kiss to April’s forehead before she allows her own eyes to flutter closed, heart and body warm.

***

When she wakes up, April is obviously trying to pretend she’s not staring at her. It’s only a little creepy and mostly endearing. There’s something so familiar in April’s gaze, like it’s not so different from the way April has looked at her for years across the Fellowship room, and Sterling wonders again if there was always something between them, if she had been living in black and white when she always had the option to see in color.

That’s a lot for so early in the morning, so Sterling settles for just a simple greeting. “Hi.”

“Hi,” April echoes. And then, “Are you ready to bring home this debate title?”

“Only if you don’t win this thing first,” Sterling quips back with a goofy grin.

April mirrors her smile, until she lets it slip from her face, lips pressed tight together. “Sterl…” she starts, fumbling for words, which is not something Sterling is used to seeing from April. “Can we— please don’t tell anyone. That we’re… gay.”

Sterling cocks her head, considering the word. “Are we?” she asks.

“I am,” April says, quietly. She lifts her chin a little, trying to regain some semblance of confidence, despite the fact that Sterling can feel the way her leg is shaking. “And, in case you were wondering, no, I do not believe God is going to smite me for being a lesbian. He made me, along with narwhals and those tiny blue poison frogs, so clearly He has a master plan.” The speech is rehearsed, as if April has carefully constructed the words in front of her bedroom mirror, turning them over in her mouth until she can say them without the slightest hint of uncertainty in her voice.

“Have you ever acted on it before— before last night?” Sterling asks.

April breathes out shakily. “You’re the first.”

Sterling allows her hand to wander along the curve of April’s chin, feels the way some of the tension in April’s neck relaxes as her fingers make contact with the skin. Then she’s swooping down to connect their lips, trying to communicate some sort of reassurance.

“I think I really like you,” Sterling says when she pulls back.

That half-grin again that Sterling adores. “I think I really like you, too.”

***

Ellen calls the two of them together, two debates into the day of competition. “Congrats on the wins, girls!” she exclaims, clapping. “I’ve always believed you two make the perfect team.” Sterling swears her heart skips a beat at the look that April gives her, discreet and smug.  _ Quite a team, indeed _ , Sterling thinks to herself.

And then Ellen is wringing her hands together. “That’s why I’m disappointed this had to happen…” April suddenly looks like she’s about to pass out from panic, unsure what Ellen does or doesn’t know about  _ them _ , until Ellen produces a copy of the tournament bracket from the pocket of her khakis and smooths it out on the table in front of them. Sterling looks at the junction for round 3 and sees her name, written in blue pen, right above April’s.

“We’re… debating each other?”

***

Sterling is standing alone in the hallway, outside her assigned classroom, when she senses a presence by her side. Turning to her left, her eyes focus on April, who also rotates her body until the two girls are staring at each other. April reaches up to straighten the lapels of Sterling’s blazer, hands lingering on the black fabric. “May the best debater win?”

“Don’t hold back,” Sterling says playfully.

“I would  _ never _ ,” April responds. She glances around the empty hallway furtively before standing on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to Sterling’s lips. “Good luck, Sterl.”

Sterling would love to say she remembers the intricacies of their debate, but honestly, she spends most of the time fighting her body’s reaction to April in full-blown  _ debate mode _ . The first time April directly and aggressively counters one of Sterling’s points, she feels a flame igniting in the pit of her stomach; by the end of April’s second argument, she’s embarrassingly turned on and her mouth feels dry as she attempts to craft a response.

As hot as she’s getting, Sterling still can’t stop April’s words from the previous weekend from rattling around in her brain:  _ I needed a win _ . It’s not like she’s going to throw the debate; she knows that would absolutely infuriate the shorter girl, and not in the good way. But if Sterling purposely fumbles a few of her words, purposely focuses on the tingling in her skin and lets April get to her just a little too much… well, she’d like to think she has plausible deniability on her side.

The judges declare April the winner, narrowly. The shorter girl jumps up and down in glee before composing herself, smoothing her hands down the front of her skirt. She approaches Sterling as the room empties, extending a hand. “Good debate,” she says, voice cordial and polite. Sterling reaches out her own hand to shake April’s, and they both hold on a little too long, each unwilling to be the first to break the contact.

They’re eventually swept into the hallway with the rest of the crowd exiting the room, but April grabs Sterling by the wrist and drags her into an abandoned hallway. Sterling can’t help but follow as April tries the knobs on tons of random doors until one opens into a supply closet. With a quick glance left and right down the hallway to ensure that there are no observers, April leads Sterling into the closet and closes the door.

Immediately, Sterling’s back hits the door as April kisses her, hard and fast and biting. She wraps her arms around April’s shoulders to settle her hands on her back, pulling her closer. They kiss until Sterling feels like she can’t breathe, and then some. Eventually, she has to pull back, gasping.

“Please tell me that debate was as…  _ erotic _ for you as it was me,” April breathes. Sterling gapes at her, feeling all the blood in her body rush south at the way April’s tongue turns the word ‘erotic’ around in her mouth. In Sterling’s silence, April’s eyes widen, and she starts to backtrack nervously. “Or not, I mean, I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No, it definitely was,” Sterling replies, cutting off the beginnings of her rambling. “Sorry, I just…” Her eyes roam the shorter girl, taking in her flushed cheeks and the way her chest is heaving. “Wow.”

April’s face blooms into a grin. “Yeah?”

Sterling nods. “I’m surprised I made it through my closing statement.”

And then April’s lips are on her neck, wet, and Sterling feels her knees go weak. Against her skin, she feels April say, “I was rather impressed with your utilitarian perspective.”

Sterling  _ moans _ . April, as always, is a quick study. “And then when you brought in that deontological argument?” she mutters before biting gently at Sterling’s neck. Sterling’s knees actually collapse at that, body slumping against the door, and she thinks for a split second that she might fall down completely before April’s hands are steady on her elbows.

April’s pupils are blown, looking up at Sterling with eyes that spark with that characteristic single-minded determination. It’s better than every single one of her fantasies. Before April can resume her work on her neck, Sterling presses her hands against the shorter girl’s shoulders to hold her back. “I just want to look at you for a second,” she murmurs. “You’re so beautiful.”

She watches as April blushes, averting her gaze. “How do you always know the exact right thing to say?” she asks softly.

Sterling tucks a strand of hair behind April’s ear before hooking her finger under April’s chin to pull her gaze back up. “I just say what I feel,” she admits. “When I’m around you, my whole body gets really warm, and there are all these feelings bubbling inside of me, and I just want to scream from the rooftops how lucky I am that you kissed me back. The past 24 hours have been the best of my life— because of you, April. And I don’t want that to stop when we go home. Us? As a thing? I want to keep exploring that, together. If… if you want to, that is.”

“Sterl…” April sounds absolutely awestruck, and as terrified as Sterling is after essentially baring her entire soul in a single monologue, she can’t help but feel a little smug that she managed to render April Stevens speechless.

“...I do,” she finally says. “Want that, I mean. With you.”

With a grin, Sterling leans down to recapture April’s lips, soft and gentle. At their sides, their hands come together, fingers intertwining, and Sterling decides she quite likes the life she’s stepped into.


End file.
